The Daddy P.I. Casefiles: The First Collection by Frost, J (i love reading txt) 📗

Aggie’s eyes widen until I can see the whites all around the brown iris. “Baba.”

There’s another round of laughter from the Doms but no giggles as Vashi and I look at Aggie with utmost sympathy.

“See how easy you have it, little girl?” Daddy murmurs to me.

I nod fervently and go up on my toes to whisper in his year, “Vashi said Master Niall made Shaan go for a whole month without. Twice!”

“Mm-hmm, he mentioned that to me, too. I think maybe I’m taking it too easy on you.”

“No way, Daddy!”

He chuckles and squeezes me. “You need anything from our room before we head out for lunch, sweetie?”

“Could I change?” I glance at Aggie’s outfit again. I’m not jealous. Much. I’d just like to feel little and I’m with Daddy so it’s safe.

“Of course. Laurel will be here any minute. Are you going to wear your dragon shirt for her?”

I have a dragon outfit with me so Laurel and I can be scaly together, but seeing Aggie, that’s not what my heart wants right now. “It’s my weekend, right?”

“It is, sweetie. Wear whatever you want.”

I nuzzle up to kiss his cheek. “Ta, Daddy. Should I go up and change now?”

“Yes, and good girl for asking. How long d’you think you’ll be?”

“Ten minutes.”

“Okay, baby doll. I’ll be up in five.” He gives me a swat on the behind and I scoot away from him to avoid a second swat, since my bottom’s still a little sore. As I head towards the stairs, I grab Vashi’s hand. With a bow to her Dom, she lets me drag her away.

“I need fashion assistance,” I tell her.

“It would be my pleasure.”

She follows me readily up the stairs. When I get to our suite, I prop the door open so Master Niall or Shaan can come in for their subbie if they want. I haven’t really unpacked much, since we’re not staying all that long. But I’ve hung up anything that will wrinkle, and I take three outfits out of the closet and lay them on the bed, then root in my luggage for two more.

While I’m rooting, there’s a knock on the door. Aggie peers into the room and smiles hesitantly when she meets my eyes. “Can I join you?”

“Of course! I need fashion assistance,” I say, waving at the outfits on the bed.

“The testosterone was getting too thick for me downstairs.” She comes to stand at the end of the bed with Vashi and shyly introduces herself.

I smack myself on the forehead. “I’m so sorry. I’m being a terrible hostess.”

Vashi and Aggie giggle and shake hands.

I pull the other two outfits out of my bag and lay them on the bed. Vashi and Aggie mirror each other, heads tipped to the side, as they inspect my wardrobe choices. When they don’t say anything for a long minute, I pull out my favorite sandals and put them at the bottom of the bed. “I have these which go—”

Vashi and Aggie both point to the same outfit.

“It’s your collaring, Emmy. You deserve to be a princess,” Aggie says.

“A fairy princess,” Vashi says. “And when I do your henna tomorrow, a fairy queen.”

“Really?” She didn’t mention doing henna for me, but she knows how much I admire hers. “Okay.”

The outfit they’ve picked is what was calling to me anyway, but I thought it might be too much. But it is my weekend, and we don’t have any more strenuous, or wet, walks planned, so it shouldn’t get ruined. I pull off my shirt and step out of my capris before I start pulling the black and purple striped thigh-highs up my legs. I’m not worried about the open door. Everyone here except Martyn’s seen me naked and if he’s going to act as dungeon monitor tonight, he will soon enough, too.

Vashi and Aggie help me into the filmy dress. Aggie laces up the back while Vashi does the ribbons at the throat, which almost make up for the chain Daddy took this morning, and the detached, three-quarter sleeves. Vashi hands Aggie the little cape that falls like a pair of fluttery, purple wings and she laces it into the back of the dress. There’s a pert, brimmed hat that goes with the outfit but that does seem like too much. I glance at it, but before I even have time to shake my head, Vashi scoops my bangs to the side and plonks the hat on top of my head.

I start to object. “It’s—”

“Perfect,” Vashi says firmly. “Hair tie.”

I check over my shoulder to make sure Aggie’s done and when she nods, retrieve my toiletry bag and hand Vashi my box of ties and scrunchies. She roots through until she finds a black velvet scrunchie, takes my hat off and gathers my hair into a side ponytail, then perches the hat on my head at an angle and draws the curls over my shoulder.

“Even more perfect.” She smiles. “Look in the mirror.”

I do—the inn has these amazing cheval mirrors in every room—and blink. I really don’t recognize myself. A dark, Victorian fairy with stripes and ruffles and ribbons and wings and gleaming skin framed in black and purple and hot, hot pink blinks huge eyes back at me from under the brim of the jauntiest hat ever.

“Emmy,” Daddy’s voice says. “Holy fuck, baby doll.”

I turn and smile at him. “You like it?” He hasn’t seen this, or any of the other little outfits I bought on a shopping expedition with my fairy kei friend Cynnie. She has a family obligation which kept her in New York this weekend, but I promised to take lots of pictures for her. I figure I’d better start now before I do something stupid like sweat. I grab my phone off the bed and cross the room to hand it to Daddy. “Let me get the shoes on. Would you take some pictures for Cynnie?”

Daddy grips my phone and looks down at me with a wolfy, feverish light in his